


The Elephant in the Room

by Ambazaar



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Broken China, Chai Time, Descussion of Rape, Elephants, F/M, Hinted Themes, Hurt/Comfort, Indian Culture, Language!, Memory Exchange, Mind Reading, New Abilities, Oblivious Mohinder, Rape Rescue, Road Trip, Sylar Battles His Demons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3721474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambazaar/pseuds/Ambazaar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Mohinder Suresh and "Zane Taylor" continue their search for people with special abilities. Most aren't willing to let these strangers into their lives. Most are afraid. For 35-year-old Elaine Marcus, being afraid isn't the half of it. She's suddenly seing things - unforgiveable things. Any small form of contact will release a stranger's deepst secrets. The people closest to her are brought into light . . . even her fience isn't who she seems to be. Though it appears the traveling duo have come to her rescue just in time - Or so it would seem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Elephant in the Room

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a one-shot, but I think I can squeeze a couple chapters out of it.
> 
> (The face that I've borrowed for my original character Elaine Marcus is Irish actress/model Caitriona Balfe . . . the ex-fience is Joseph Anderson)
> 
> DISCLAIMER:  
> I do not own Heroes or any of its characters - Namely: Mohinder Suresh, Zane Taylor, and Sylar/Gabriel Gray
> 
> All other characters heard or mentioned belong to me . . . Mwahahahaha! (^_^)

Just as Elaine was heading back upstairs to continue watching her favorite program, hot water for her tea steaming on the stove and a bowl of freshly buttered popcorn in her arms, there came three knocks on her front door. Only three; the pattern of one certain individual who obviously had not taken in her blatant demands to leave her in peace. He was back, of that she had no doubt. This was the fifth time in two weeks. The evasiveness was getting old and more than a little concerning. What had began as a seemingly innocent yet repetitive plea for an explanation was slowly changing into a terrifying demand for attention, and the annoyance within Elaine slowly progressed into small hints of fear. Her worry built up each time she answered the door.

She feared that every time after the last, instead of his usual forgiving posture, Matthew would storm into her home and hold her under lock-down. Why then would she allow him a single moment of her time, especially after his latest outburst? Elaine was not entirely sure the thing she feared about her (pending) fiance was even real. Rationally, she was just over paranoid about that girl she'd seen him hang out with at work, and her mind was making up ludicrous visions of him possibly cheating on her. Still, just the thought of him made her body shiver uncomfortably. There was also, if she was taking everything into account, the violent ending of his last visit which had left her lying on the floor of her living room; she finally came too several hours later and found a short and pathetic attempt at an apologetic message left on her answering machine which ended with him pleading with her to not press charges. She had not, but only to spare herself the headache of the inevitable threatening aftermath.

There was also the stress of possibly losing her website campaign due to a lack of activity this last month. Elaine was an antiques collector and restorer, though for the past few weeks, she had had little to no business. It was just her luck, or so she assumed. Either a competitor was rising too quickly or something had happened to her stock or a customer would rebound an account and transfer to another site . . . she just couldn't keep up. She could barely focus on her work, however, partially to Matt and partially to the dreams that had recently plagued her.

These visions she could have gone on well the rest of her life without seeing, though none were as vivid as the first she'd had, just two weeks ago, right before she started avoiding her fiance.

It'd only been for a moment; the vision that still burned in her thoughts as if it were a memory - a memory that seemed to belong to her, but she would **never** admit something so horrid could have ever possibly been hers. It had happened so quickly (noting also that it appeared at probably the worst of times). The sounds of a young woman crying, pleading for her life - Elaine would not have known entirely what those sounds were until hours after the event had occurred and she'd accumulated enough silent peace to register what it was she was hearing over and over in her head - and then his voice. At least, it sounded like him, though it had felt like it was coming out of Elaine's own throat, the vibrations left in her mouth from the rough words feeling heavy on her tongue. Strange and sickening.

In any case, Elaine was not in any form of mood to put up with Matthew today. She'd felt relaxed and even inspired enough to try a new chai recipe. Plus, Criminal Minds was on tonight, and she would not miss another new episode. For a moment, she considered continuing up the stairs and ignoring her visitor, but three more knocks brought her escalated foot back down from the first step. The knocks were not aggressive like she was expecting. They were patient, and she suddenly wondered if maybe there was something wrong with him. No other knocks followed, but there was a clear outline of someone reflecting through the stained glass of her front door still hanging about on her porch. Elaine sighed, unconsciously raising her free hand to where, underneath the long sleeve of her fuzzy blue sweater, a large yellow and blue circle pigmented the usually pale skin of her forearm; one bruise of many. If anything, she could just threaten to call the police - ironically, her last encounter with him gave her the perfect opportunity to use the police as a threat to get rid of him. Setting the popcorn bowl on a side table next to the stairs, she straightened up and prepared her usual façade of confidence, and then she proceeded toward the door. She did not take into account that there were two figures reflecting inside the stained glass before she opened her mouth.

"I swear, Matthew, if this continues any longer, I'll-" she stopped.

As Elaine swung the door open, hand steady on the inside handle, she was met with two dark pairs of kind eyes. The visitors that they belonged to were not familiar in any way to her. These strangers were both men, but neither were who she was expecting. The closest man, maybe an inch taller than she was, wore a long over coat and a dark blue, button up shirt over a clean white tee, and plain blue jeans dressed his legs. He would have seemed as any normal passerby, save for his dark complexion and unnaturally curly black hair. His smile was also as unfamiliar, but very welcomed. His companion, however, was as customary as any of Elaine's neighbors. He was definitely white, maybe a little older that Elaine herself, and easily taller than the other man. His simple outfit consisted of a long-sleeved, black shirt with a skateboard centered over his chest and a ripped pair of dark, blue jeans. His shoes were regular converse, the only neat thing about him. Even his dark hair was ruffled as if he had only just risen from bed and he wore at least a few day's worth of stubble on his face. His whole demeanor appeared as far off from the other man as possible; Elaine's immediate first thought was how on Earth the two of them came to know each other. The minute Elaine busted out in her rage though, both of her visitors were each looking at her with newly found confusion.

Elaine was instantly embarrassed. She brushed her hair back and laughed nervously, lowering her gaze away from the two strangers. "I apologize. I was expecting someone else." That was obvious to them. She glanced at each of them, and they gave her reassuring, friendly faces. Regaining control of her emotions, she dropped her façade and smiled in genuine pleasure. She cleared her throat and leaned into the door, her hand still resting on the inside doorknob. "Is there something I can help with?" she asked politely. Her soft Irish accent was fluent now and easily depicted by them. She could see the pleasantness in the darker man's expression at noticing it.

"Yes, we're looking for Elaine Marcus," he began, his voice polite and pleasing. Elaine was delighted to discover he had an accent of his own; English, but with a slight inflection of Indian, maybe. This man was definitely not from around here. However, there was something familiar about his voice. She'd never seen him before, that much was certain.

"And, you are?" Elaine scrutinized him as she spoke.

"My name is Dr. Mohinder Suresh," the darker man said, pressing a palm to his chest, and then he gestured to his companion. "And, this is Mr. Taylor."

"It's Zane, actually. Just Zane," the second man took a step forward, pulling one of his sleeves over his hand, twirling it nervously. His nervousness did not take Elaine by surprise. What did catch her off guard was the mention of Mohinder's name. Now that she had heard before, and the moment it registered in her thoughts, her whole body tensed. Elaine took a step back into her house, clenching the doorknob to hold back her sudden anger.

"I've left several messages at this address ," Mohinder went on, noticing Elaine's sudden anxiety. "though, not a one was responded to. . ."

"Yes, Elaine got them."

Mohinder was tempted to glance back at Zane, but he kept a determined eye on Elaine. "I was hoping to ask her a few questions. Purely academic, of course. It's very important-"

"There's nothing that she wants to say to you," There was bitterness in Elaine's tone.

The friendly expressions were gone from the two men, replaced by another surge of confusion. Mohinder took a bold step forward as Elaine retreated back into her home. "Please, we wish only to speak with her; ask her a few questions. We just want to help." he tried to assure her. This only brought out more anger.

"Help?" Elaine glared at Mohinder with a sudden urge to lash out at him. She bared her teeth as she spoke. " _You_? . . . You've done enough," she scowled, remembering, again, the bruises on her arm, her ribs, the fingerprints on the side of her neck . . . though not vocalizing their existence aloud. Zane looked at Mohinder, both men unsure of the reasoning for such an amount of anger pointed at them, especially the young professor. They had expected rejection; fear even. What was the cause for her to hate them, they wondered? She was staring holes through Mohinder, as if wishing sickness upon him. She breathed hard. "Elaine doesn't want to talk to you. Don't come here again, don't call anymore. You're only wasting your time." With that, she went on to close the door .

It was Zane who stepped forward, leaping in front of Mohinder to push his hand against the door just before it latched shut, to both Elaine and the professor's surprise. Elaine stared at him, not knowing what to expect. She stood frozen, half in fear and half in anger. Zane merely stared back, assuring her with a friendly smile.

"Listen, Elaine." Zane realizing who she was brought more surprise to her and Mohinder, and the Doctor suddenly felt foolish for not seeing it in the first place (her file had said she'd been born in Ireland, after all). Zane took a deep breath. "I understand why you're pushing us away. You just want a normal life, and you think we're here to complicate things, but the truth is: you're not normal - You're special." Hearing that she was special of all things, this only angered the young woman more. She certainly didn't feel special. "These things that are happening to you," Zane went on, "ignoring us won't make them go away. We can help you understand it. There's no need to be ashamed or afraid." Zane told her with as much encouragement as he could muster. His eyes stared into her with knowing and kindness, but Elaine's stubbornness would not falter her decision to withdraw.

"What do you know?" She placed her free hand on her hip, a posture Elaine did often in obstinacy or determination. She would not have said it out loud, but she had not been expecting Zane to speak as fluently as he did, just from the image he gave off, which appeared a bit juvenile. Even then, she had no desire to let either man in her home.

Zane stood up straight, releasing the door of the pressure of his hand. He smiled again. "I know that you feel like there isn't a person in the world who can understand what you're going through. But, what you don't know is that just a few days ago, I was feeling exactly what you are now. We've both been wrong. We're not alone." He sighed, as if signaling he had nothing more to add; he knew he needn't bother.

Elaine stared Zane in the eyes as he spoke. His words seemed rehearsed, but the tone in his voice was sincere, and every one sunk into Elaine's thoughts like a boulder. They'd both been wrong? Did that mean . . . that he . . .? She suddenly wondered if he knew about her vision. There was promise in his eyes, and because she saw that she began to open the door a little wider.

Elaine exchanged glances with the other man, who hadn't spoken a word since she blew him off. He caught her eyes, like he knew she was looking for some kind of reassurance, and he gave her a small smile, and nodded. Elaine did not know why, but she felt as if she could trust him in that instant. A complete stranger - and she slunk away from her stiff posture because he was staring at her with googley, puppy-dog eyes (though she couldn't bring herself to apologize . . .not yet). Finally, she sighed and nodded. She moved aside, glancing at both of her visitors, and silently allowed them entrance into her home. Before closing the door, Elaine looked either way down the road. When she saw no one, she, too, disappeared into the house.

Both men were not expecting what they discovered past the foyer hall as Elaine led them into the living room. The outside of the house did the inside absolutely no justice. The walls were all painted gold, which shimmered in the sunlight that reflected from the wall-scaling windows of the front room. The living room and dining area were openly connected to each other, and a tall archway gave entrance to the kitchen from down the hall, though the island counter was easily visible through a glass-less window parallel to the grouped pieces of furniture sitting in a circle around a beautiful, marble coffee table in the living room. The floors, looking freshly polished, were a deep red wood, which balanced perfectly with the dark bricks of the fireplace opposite of the furniture and the large abstract painting that hung in the far wall just before the start of the dining area (Mohinder made a note to himself to admire the artwork more closely if later they still remained). A beautiful crystal chandelier hung just above the coffee table; looking up to admire it, Zane noticed how tall the room was and he realized the second floor led by the large staircase he'd passed seconds ago stretched into a towering balcony, and then into a walkway straight over their heads right into the other side of the room to another balcony. Also, a pleasant blend of cinnamon and ginger hung in the air, giving the house a pleasant and relaxing atmosphere.

Elaine offered her guests a spot on her biggest couch. The two men gladly sat, taking another opportunity to look around the magnificent house. That's when Mohinder's gaze brushed over a unique assortment of antique, marble statues. They were beautifully decorated Elephants, arranged in a circular pattern on a side table a few yards away from where he sat. Their heads pointed up, trunks bent to touch their foreheads, and each one had their front, left foot raised in the air. If Mohinder looked hard enough, it seemed as if they were parading in a circle around the lamp they surrounded. The blue, green, and purple jewels of their headdresses and saddles danced under the light of the setting sun, which shone through the large living room windows. When Elaine found her place on the chair across from her guests, she saw him staring at them, enchanted. Just a little while longer of appreciating the pieces, and Mohinder would have been lost forever, she was certain. She smiled, feeling proud.

"Beautiful aren't they?" she asked. It took the professor a second to take in her voice, and he looked away from her collection with a smile.

"Enchanting. They look true Indian." he observed. Elaine was not surprised at his guess. Elephants were a common depiction of Indian culture, and were made into many antique and collectible pieces. But these were special.

"Two years, I've had those in my loving care." Elaine cleared her throat, excited to tell the tale. "I took a trip to India during a fall semester of college. I was setting up an online account for buying and repairing antiques, and a lot of my pieces were based in India and Brazil." She stared at the parade of elephants with such appreciation; it brought out something in Mohinder. Admiration, maybe. "I was touring with some friends around Chennai, a large tourist spot in India, and I saw them in a window, just out of chance. The late sun hitting them perfectly, as it is now." Elaine sighed, remembering the day as if it were yesterday. "I couldn't leave without them. Spent every last dollar I had; it wasn't a very long trip."

"You've been to Chennai, then?"

Elaine took her attention away from the elephants and turned it back to her guests. "Yes . Have you ever been there?" she asked.

"I was born in Chennai," Mohinder informed her, in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone and a proud smile on his face.

Elaine sat up in her chair, leaning forward with newly found interest. "I would have guessed where you were from; your accent is certainly not American. But, Chennai - It's such a beautiful city. The culture of India is so rich there. So many unexpected pleasures; my friends had to pay me to leave. Literally." she laughed.

Elaine grew quiet suddenly, glancing down toward the floor. She stood up then, and disappeared for a few seconds out of sight.

Mohinder exchanged glances with Zane, who was sitting comfortably on the couch, nearly allowing the cushions to consume him; he contemplated the idea of having the young professor also pay him to leave.

Elaine returned, standing over Mohinder with a blue book pressed against her chest. She hesitantly handed it to him. "I bought this near two weeks ago, right after you left your first message." Mohinder let the book fall into his hands. He looked it over, and froze. Then he smiled. Activating Evolution by Chandra Suresh. It was his father's book.

"I looked up the author, but the news reports said that he had died." Mohinder nodded, catching her gaze, then quickly looking away again. "I'm sorry." she breathed, wondering suddenly why she had apologized. She wasn't even sure Mohinder was related to the author, if he even knew him. But now it was obvious he did.

Elaine turned to Zane then, noticing that he had not said a word since his great speech. They gave each other uncertain looks for a few seconds, until Elaine was comfortable enough in her own seat. "So, can you do anything?" she asked suddenly, brushing loose strands of hair behind her ear. Zane smiled.

He sat up, rubbing his hands over his knees, like he was preparing for something. "I need an object." he said. Elaine glanced at her elephants for half a second. "Something with little value," he added quickly, "I'm pretty sure you won't get it back." Elaine almost stood to grab a piece of silverware from her kitchen, when a small glimmer caught her eye. She looked down at the ring on her finger. It was a simple silver band with a small diamond centered in a circular carving in the middle. Without a second's hesitation, she slipped the ring from her finger and offered it to Zane. He hesitated to take it.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his brows furrowing in concern. She quickly nodded and gave no explanation, only outstretched her arm farther toward him. When Zane took the ring, Elaine retreated into the chair, lifting her knees under her chin and rested her head there, waiting. Zane took a few tissues from the coffee table and placed them over each other, then the ring on top of them. Elaine's eyes were glued to Zane. A million possibilities swam through her head, but in an instant she thought of nothing. She simply stared, holding her breath, as Zane hovered his hand over the ring. Her eyes followed his fingers. He cupped his fingers together over the ring. She watched them slowly spread apart, and as they did, she saw the ring suddenly melt before her eyes. It materialized into a small silver pool over the tissues, leaking into the paper like any regular liquid. When Zane sat back, satisfied with his work, Elaine bolted forward from her chair and lifted the tissues, sighing heavily in amazement. She dipped a finger in the small silver pool, catching only a bit of it on her skin. It was cool, and it shined as she turned her finger in the light.

"Oh my God," she breathed, quietly at first. Then, she laughed, nervously and disbelieving. Elaine stood from the chair and ran into her kitchen, returning moments later with a small spoon and a glass cup. She placed the spoon inside the cup and put it down on the coffee table in front of Zane, crossing her arms over her chest afterword. "Do it again," she demanded. Zane couldn't help but smile. He repeated the procedure he'd done for the ring and, sure enough, the silver spoon materialized into a liquid pool at the bottom of the cup. Elaine sunk back into her chair, a hand over her mouth. Her lips were trembling, her heart was racing. She felt as if the thousands of questions swimming in her brain were enough to make her explode. As she sat there in her silence, Zane glanced at Mohinder, and they each smiled at the other.

Elaine let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I don't . . ." The men caught Elaine's whisper and turned back to her. "I thought I was . . . I don't know."

"Crazy?"

Elaine looked up at Zane from her hands and smiled. "Yeah."

"I told you." Zane shook his head. "You're not the only one."

Their host brushed her bangs back and looked down at the table, wondering suddenly if the diamond of her ring had materialized as well, but she didn't ask. She turned to Mohinder instead, letting the thought slip away. "How many others are there?"

"Well, for certain, I only know of a dozen, but out in the world?: A hundred. A thousand. Perhaps even a hundred-thousand. The possibilities are endless."

"And, you're trying to find them?" Mohinder nodded. Elaine's curious and excited smile slightly faded. She shrugged her shoulders. "Why?" she asked.

Mohinder exchanged another glance with Zane, though the other man was avoiding his gaze now; his eyes remained on their host. "To help them," he said simply. "It's what my father spent the last of his time trying to do. His life went into these people, people with abilities like you and Zane; trying to find them and help them. I believe I'm in a position to do the same. You see," he moved to the edge of the couch, unconsciously closer to Elaine. "Some people may be frightened of their gifts. I want them to simply understand what they have, to help them control it, if I can."

"What if they don't want to control it?" Elaine asked. "What if they just want to get rid of it?"

Mohinder's thought process and the remains of Elaine's questioning were suddenly put to a halt when the loud whistle of the tea pot rang in from the kitchen. Elaine got up to excuse herself. "My apologies. I'm making chai. Would either of you gentlemen like a cup?" she asked politely as she walked out of the living room.

Both Mohinder and Zane replied in unison, "Yes, please." Elaine laughed to herself.

"I hope you don't mind. I'm trying out a recipe," she called from the kitchen. Mohinder and Zane could see her through the window connecting both rooms. They watched as she took the pot from the burner. There were several small plates of ingredients on the counter beside the stove. Steam rolled from the spout of the pot, licking the skin on her arms and up to her face. The heat was soothing, but unwelcome; she quickly took the band from her wrist and tied her long, wavy, brown hair in a sloppy tail to give her shoulders and neck air to breath.

"I thought I smelt something delicious." Zane commented, taking in another whiff of the air. Mohinder did the same.

"Is it cinnamon?"

Elaine was pouring milk into the pot when Mohinder asked. "Cinnamon, green cardamom, ginger, anise, and black tea leaves. I prefer honey, but I'll let you decide on a sweetener." she informed them, allowing the mixture to simmer back on the stove. "I actually picked up the recipe at a Pakistani joint in New York City."

"Which one?" This was Mohinder who asked.

"Lahore Deli. Some girlfriends of mine took me there several months ago, and ever since then, my love for chai just grew."

Mohinder smiled in approval. "Well, you have excellent tastes, then. Shining gold walls, beautiful elephant figurines, and now chai. Are you sure we haven't met before?" Elaine looked up through the window. Mohinder was smiling wide at her.

Despite her indifference toward the professor several minutes ago, Elaine found herself smiling back. "I know. I have an unhealthy interest in Indian culture, as you've already guessed. And it only gets worse - or better, if you prefer - the more you explore the house."

"Then it seems fate has brought my friend and I to your door."

"That, Ser, remains to be seen." Elaine said simply and Mohinder's smile slightly faded. For a moment, she thought perhaps it had been too rude. She sighed. "So, you came all the way from India, have you?"

"Oh, no. Zane and I are staying in Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn? Still a long ways from here."

Mohinder nodded. "Well, there are others we hope to meet by the end of the month. If we can become acquainted with even one person, I'd say our trip was well worth it."

"Is it?" Elaine looked to her other guest through he window. "And what do you think, Zane?"

Zane, having been silent awhile now, nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. If there was any chance at meeting someone . . . like me. I thinks it's worth it."

Elaine glanced back and forth from Zane to Mohinder. They smiled and she couldn't but help return their smiles.

She returned to her task at the kitchen stove. "Well," she said, sighing heavily. She met Mohinder's gaze. "I suppose since you came all this way just for me, I could let you tell me a little about where you're from, Dr. Suresh. Seeing that I admire your culture as I do."

This brought back the young professor's smile in full. Elaine would not admit it out loud, especially since she barely knew this man, but Mohinder had a very handsome smile.

"It would be my pleasure."

Elaine's cheeks flushed and she moved her gaze to the cupboard which held her China.

Mohinder caught Zane looking at him strangely and his smile dropped. "What?" He was silent enough to keep their host oblivious.

Zane said nothing and shook his head. After a moment, he cleared his throat. "So, Miss Marcus -"

"If I wanted to be called Miss Marcus, I'd permanently change my name as such," she called to Zane through the window. He nodded and apologized. "Call me Elaine, or Lanie, if you like." Elaine assured him with another smile.

"Um . . . Elaine (Elaine chuckled to herself). Forgive me when I say, I wasn't expecting your home to be so beautiful. It seems very different on the outside . . . and it smells wonderful." He said, obviously trying to bury the other conversation.

Elaine laughed. "Well, thank you. My hobbies in antiques have obviously paid off these last few years. Though, I'm afraid the only thing my home ever smells like is dying plants and chips. You can thank the chai today for making it bearable."

"Well it smells delicious and I can't wait to try some."

"I'll try not to disappoint. This is my first time making it." Elaine poured each of them a cup, using a small strainer to catch the tea leaves, and placed them on a tray accompanied by a cup of sugar cubes and a small saucer of honey. She brought the tray to the coffee table, allowing them spoons for stirring. Zane and Mohinder both thanked her, and then she went back for her cup. Sighs of approval caught her ears as they sipped their tea, and she smiled.

"It's been awhile since I've had decent chai," Mohinder called after her. "This country is obsessed with its coffee." he laughed, took another sip of the chai, and added "This is wonderful."

"Agreed," Zane added, sipping at the hot beverage (he made a mental note to track down the recipe).

"I prefer tea in general on cooler days, but I was in a creative mood," she called from the kitchen, stirring in her own honey. "I've always loved tea over regular coffee. It just seems a more pleasant beverage, I guess. Chai, however has become my absolute favorite. Its just too good. And, it's a wonderful stress reliever, more so than other teas. I've found many different varieties don't work quite as well at easing pain . . ." Elaine zoned off, the trailing comment and following silence in the kitchen catching both of her guests' attention. She said nothing else. Her stirring came to a halt, and her eyes drifted away from her cup. To the two men in her living room, she seemed far off (they could see her through the kitchen window). She hadn't meant to say more. It had been so long since Elaine had had company, and the words just rolled off her tongue, like they'd been waiting a chance to be heard, even if by complete strangers. Catching herself, she refused to say more and shook herself half focused.

Elaine only slightly raised the spoon from her cup and turned to put it in the sink, hoping her guests would just ignore her comment. She jumped as the spoon dragged the cup off the counter, shattering it on the floor and spilling its contents. The flowing liquid burned her feet as it touched her, and she swore under her breath. Mohinder and Zane stood from the couch.

"Are you alright?" Zane asked, beating Mohinder to the punch. Elaine nervously laughed.

"Yes, I'm alright. I can be a bit of a klutz, is all." She bent down to the floor with a roll of paper towels, gently dabbing it so not to cut herself on the glass. The bigger pieces of the cup she picked up first, and after the floor was wiped dry, the remaining pieces she swept into a pan. Then she straightened up and got herself another cup and poured the rest of the tea for herself. Mumbling under her breath, she added, "My poor china." She sighed and returned to her place in the living room.

For a while, the three of them simply sipped their beverages, not commenting to each other. Elaine kept her gaze away them, hiding behind her tea glass, embarrassed. She was sure they could see it.

Elaine wouldn't meet their gaze. She stared to her left, at the magnificent circle of elephants that she adored so much. What she hadn't taken into account, was that the two men could now easily see the large yellow fingerprints on the side of her neck; she had forgotten about it when she put her hair up and now failed to remember to bring her hair back down to hide it. Zane said nothing. Mohinder was bound to eventually.

This new discovery corrupted his thoughts with concern. He decided against asking about the bruises directly and tried to ignore them as Elaine took another loud sip of her chai. Finally, Mohinder cleared his throat. "Elaine," he said, setting his cup back on the tray. "These pains," The words pried Elaine's attention from the marble parade, "are they a result of you using your abilities?"

Elaine shook her head with a smile, her nervousness now gone. "Oh, no. I mean yes . . . Sort of." Her eyes drifted into space. Her mind disappeared for a moment, deep in thought. She brought herself back to reality when the right one hit her. "They're muscle pains. I run every morning for at least an hour, and I go to the gym a lot. It isn't something I've always done, so my body it's use to the strain. And recently, I've had . . . minor headaches, but they never last long," she assured them. She knew it was partially a lie, but Mohinder and Zane could see the truth in her words, despite the clear evidence on her body. They watched her as she stirred her tea, her eyes shifting to the silver covered tissue paper, and took the opportunity to examine her figure in light of her statement. Physically, Elaine had a very healthy looking body. She was slightly taller than most, but wonderfully thin. But, even if they approved, they both couldn't deny she was hiding something; there was a fresh, yet distant look in her eyes. Though they were curious, it was obvious she didn't want to talk about it.

Elaine shook herself out of the dark places in her thoughts and sat up in the couch. "I suppose you didn't come here to drink chai and talk about my hobbies. You want to know what I can do," she said, changing the subject. Mohinder and Zane then remembered why they were there in the first place.

"Yes, in fact, I'd like you to show us - so I can document it." Mohinder suggested. The moment he did, Elaine grew tense. She sat back in her chair and shook her

"Oh, I can't . . . That's not a good idea."

"Why not? Is it dangerous?" Mohinder asked what Zane's eyes could not.

Elaine sighed and slouched in discomfort. "No. It's . . . not particularly dangerous." Not again, she thought to herself. I don't want it to happen again. She didn't speak her distress out loud. She remained silent, causing Mohinder to push a demand disguised as a plea.

"You could tell us about it at least." Mohinder proposed.

Elaine was silent for another few seconds. Uncertainly, she said, "I suppose . . . but," she glanced at Zane, who was staring at her with this yearning. She could feel it the longer they shared gazes. She thought of the ring he'd melted and felt, for a moment, a sting of jealously. "It's not as flashy as Zane's, I suppose. It's just . . ." Oh, she was so nervous. Why was she nervous? Elaine set down her cup and held a hand over her eyes; the shimmering gold walls were playing with her sight. She laughed, halfheartedly and looked back at Mohinder. "A couple days ago, I just thought I was having dreams. I mean . . . I'm not even sure what I see is even real. I thought . . . someone . . . had pulled a prank on me when I got your first message. I thought I was going crazy. " She said, honestly.

Mohinder moved closer to the edge of his seat, his arms resting comfortably on his knees and hands collected together. "What are you seeing?" he asked, slowly with all the patience in the world. Elaine didn't meet his eyes, though she would have liked to.

Yes, she had offered to tell them. But, she didn't want to think of those visions again, those thoughts that had come from practically nowhere. Though the harder she tried to block them out, the faster they came. Soon it was all she could think of and she suddenly felt like she was going to lose control. Elaine shook her head violently. 'I can't . . . I . . ." She could hear Matthew's crude voice in her head, his words still unclear to her, though the cries of that girl were as clear to her as Mohinder's question. That girl in Elaine's vision . . . she was so young. She was so afraid. So alone . .

"Elaine." Mohinder caught the attention of his struggling host with a soft voice. Her bright blue eyes met his deep brown ones and instantly felt relieved. She felt released from the look of that young girl, whoever she was. Mohinder smiled sweetly at her and Elaine felt herself melt. Seriously . . . where had this guy come from, she thought?

She sighed and recollected herself, letting out a deep breath. She sat straight in her chair and re-situated her bangs. When she was ready to speak again, she'd made sure to take another sip of her chai first (which also reminded the others to do so). "These things I see . . . They're not entirely clear. And I don't always remember everything."

"That's alright," Mohinder said, suddenly reaching into his bag that sat at his side on the couch, bringing out something that looked like a recorder. Elaine didn't know if she was completely okay with this, but another look into the professor's eyes hushed any concern that she had. "Just," he continued, finding a comfortable position to set his recorder, "start wherever you feel the most comfortable."


End file.
